


you, me, and everything caught in the fire.

by jugheadsucks



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 04:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jugheadsucks/pseuds/jugheadsucks
Summary: Despite his reputation, when it came to divulging the truth about anything remotely personal or concerning his own feelings, he was suspiciously silent. Richie’s emotions were, for the most part, indiscernible. His friends had learnt not to question it, but more importantly not to push him on it. When backed into a corner Richie got defensive, and that didn’t often end well.--5 times Richie showed his affection through his actions, and 1 time he didn't.





	you, me, and everything caught in the fire.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from **you** by radiohead! please let me know what you think!
> 
> enjoy! ♥

** _i._ **

Richie had never been one to talk about his feelings. He’d talk about anything else, he’d talk about whatever he wanted, no matter how uncomfortable other people got or how much it pissed them off. He was known for it, for being a loudmouth with no filter and no ability to tell when he should simply  _ shut the fuck up _ . 

Despite his reputation, when it came to divulging the truth about anything remotely personal or concerning his own feelings, he was suspiciously silent. Richie’s emotions were, for the most part, indiscernible. His friends had learnt not to question it, but more importantly not to push him on it. When backed into a corner Richie got defensive, and that didn’t often end well. They knew he loved them, and most of the time, that was all that mattered.

When Richie and Eddie started dating, Eddie assumed Richie would be the same way he always had been when it came to his feelings. That’s not what Eddie wanted. He wanted Richie to tell him how he really felt, to put his heart out on a platter for him and tell him every thought that crossed his mind. He knew that was just wishful thinking, but he couldn’t help but wish for it. When they were together and Richie was silent, he often longed to know what was going on inside the other man’s head. Richie said more than he thought he would, but it still wasn’t much, and for Eddie, it wasn’t  _ enough _ . 

The only thing that eased his annoyance at Richie’s silence was his blossoming understanding of Richie’s actions. Not long after they got together, he started to notice everything Richie said without saying anything at all.

The first time he notices it, it’s the fourth of July.

They’re in the middle of town and the streets are bustling; somewhere nearby a marching band is playing, countless people are laughing and yelling, and the amount of flags waving about seems infinite. The chaos is starting to make Eddie nervous, his chest starting to tighten as his hands begin to sweat. Just as he goes to open his mouth to tell him, Richie places his hand gently on the small of his back. He rubs it slowly around in small circles, trying to calm him, and Eddie looks over at him with awe in his eyes. As soon as he sees Richie looking back, all the sounds and sights and chaos around them fade away and it’s just the two of them there. Richie just smiles back, continuing to move his hand gently across his back, and Eddie feels calmer than he realised he could in this situation. He didn’t say anything to Richie, honestly he wouldn’t know where to begin. What he did know is that that gesture was Richie’s way of saying  _ it’s okay, I’ve got you,  _ and Eddie’s back had tingled for the rest of the day.

  
  


** _ii._ **

The second time he notices it, it’s dark. 

Richie had dragged Eddie to the movie theatre to see some horror film, even though he knew that Eddie hated them. He should have resisted more than he did, he should have said no and not had to deal with the tight and writhing sensation he had felt in his stomach all morning. He could never have said no, though, because Richie had been so excited, his eyes wide and full of light, an infectious smile on his face.

Eddie could never say no to Richie when he looked at him like that.

They were sat at the back of the room, and Eddie secretly hoped that it meant they would be doing more kissing than anything else. They weren’t, though, Richie’s attention entirely on the screen, completely lost in the story the second the lights went dark. Eddie was sat there next to him, looking just to the right of the screen and trying to comfort himself with the heat of Richie’s body next to his.

He tried to tell himself that the blood and guts and dingy, disgusting rooms didn’t bother him that much, but who was he kidding? He felt like a child, starting to panic over a  _ movie,  _ but he couldn’t help himself. His heart was beginning to beat faster, chest warm and palms sweaty, and he closed his eyes, breathing in... out... in... out. He could still hear the film, though, and somehow that was so much worse. The sounds of screams and tearing flesh assaulted his ears until he has to open his eyes again, blinking against the bright light of the screen.

He looks over at Richie and he’s fucking smiling and Eddie briefly wonders if he’s dating a psychopath.

When he looks back towards the screen, though, Richie’s hand moves over to rest on his, squeezing slightly. He unfolds his legs and Eddie knows that means  _ we can leave if you want _ . His chest flutters at the simplicity of it, the familiarity of Richie caring for him enough to give up something he enjoys. 

He knows he might tease him about it later, but he would never be angry with him and Eddie smiles, chest growing warm with affection. For a second, he forgets where he is, and then someone in the film screams and stares just long enough to see someone get their leg stuck in a bear trap.

He needs to leave. Now.

He nods his head and Richie stands up immediately, walking out of the theatre with Eddie’s hand still in his.

They don’t say anything when they get outside, but Richie hugs him to his chest until his scent brings Eddie’s heart rate back to normal, and it’s enough.

  
  


** _iii._ **

The third time he notices it, Eddie is sure that he is losing his fucking mind.

He runs his hands through his hair, breathing heavily and trying to calm himself. He really shouldn’t be this bothered anyway, it’s only a stupid book. I mean, he needs it for his English class and it’s full of post-it’s and notes scribbled in the margins, but that’s okay. He can fail English, no biggie, it’s fine.

He almost laughs at his pathetic attempt to placate himself, but it’s taking all his energy right now to stop himself from crying.

He sits down at his desk and shoves his headphones into his ears, pressing play on some random John Williams soundtrack playlist. He will find his English book, it has to be somewhere, it didn’t just disappear off the face of the earth. In the meantime, he has other work to do.

He pulls his bag onto his lap, unzipping it and glancing inside to try and find his maths textbook when-

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

His copy of Othello is just sitting there, in the top of his bag, taunting him. He sits there staring at it for what feels like an eternity, anger and embarrassment and relief washing over him in waves.

He turned his room upside down looking for that book and it was in backpack the entire time. He doesn’t know whether to slam his head on his desk or stand up and jump for joy. He settles for placing it in front of him and opening it, ready to finally get some work done.

That’s when he sees the note.

A folded over piece of lined paper, edges jagged and the pen leaking through slightly from the other side. He has a feeling he knows who it’s from before he even opens it.

He unfolds it carefully, as if it’s some kind of precious artifact.

_ i borrowed this to copy your notes _

_ sorry i forgot to ask _

_ richie ♡ _

The handwriting was unmistakably Richie’s, and so was the heart. He always drew them the same way, pointy and thin and rushed and so uniquely  _ him _ . It was more than that, though. Eddie knew what that heart meant, he knew that it was Richie’s way of saying  _ i love you _ and he thought his own heart was going to burst.

The stress and embarrassment he was feeling melted away like snow in the sun, and all he could feel was love. His chest grew warm and his stomach started to flutter and he just couldn’t help but smile as he read the note over and over and over again. He thought briefly that he should be angry, he should be angry with Richie for taking his book without asking and for making him have a minor freak out. He just glanced at that messy scribble of a heart again, and he knew he could never be angry at him.

It would take a lot more than stealing one of his books to make Eddie Kaspbrak angry at Richie Tozier.

  
  


** _iv._ **

The fourth time he notices it, Eddie feels small.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, really, it wasn’t. It had happened before and it probably would again. It was just a  _ thing _ , but not something to dwell on. He tried to act like the knowledge that this would probably be a regular occurence didn’t terrify him, but it wasn’t working. He knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn’t just sit there and take it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to worry anyone with this, to burden them, to seem weak or pathetic.

Bottling it up was easier.

He was walking back to his car after school. It was late, he’d stayed behind to work on his chemistry project, and the sun had almost finished setting, the world slowly fading into shades of grey. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket further down against the evening chill, keys clinking in his hand, and just as he was about to unlock his car door-

“Hey, Kaspbrak!”

He didn’t need to turn to know who was speaking, and fear shot down his spine like ice. He tried to unlock the door, but he was starting to panic, hands fumbling and dropping the keys onto the concrete with a loud clang.

By the time he’d picked them up, Henry Bowers was stood right next to him, leaning up against his car. He was so close that Eddie could feel his breath on his face and he stared fiercely at the roof of his car, trying to will him to  _ leave him the fuck alone _ .

The next three minutes passed as a blur, but Eddie definitely remembers hearing the words  _ fag _ and  _ pathetic _ and feeling Henry Bowers fingers around his throat.

He stands there against his car for a long time after he leaves, shocked and panicked, turning in on himself and trying to stop his hands from shaking before he has to drive home. The air around him feels hot but he feels so cold, devoid of all warmth. Almost twenty minutes passes before he finally opens his car door and drives slowly out of the car park.

When he meets up with Richie a little later on, Eddie tries to hide how shaken he feels, how scared and wounded. He plasters a smile on his face, tensing his hands to stop them from shaking, and walks towards his boyfriend.

It takes Richie less than two seconds to figure out that something is wrong.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, immediately pulling Eddie into a hug.

Eddie relaxes as soon as his head rests against Richie’s chest, all the tension and worry he was carrying beginning to dissipate. He breathes in his scent and allows himself to feeling the warmth that washes over him, pouring from Richie straight into Eddie’s veins. 

Everything in this world is okay as long as he has Richie by his side.

“Nothing’s wrong, just a bad day.”

Richie moves back then, staring into Eddies’s eyes, and shakes his head.

“There’s something up, I can tell. What is it?”

Eddie sighs, looking down and flexing his hands slightly, tightening and loosening his grip on the back of Richie’s hoodie. He knows he can’t lie, because Richie can always tell when he’s lying, but the truth feels too hard to tell. He continues to stare down at his chest, time passing agonisingly slowly, until the other boy moves his hand and places it under his chin, tilting his head up gently and forcing him to look him in the eyes.

“Eddie, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

He barely gets the name  _ Henry Bowers _ out of his mouth before Richie’s arms uncoil from around him and his fists clench at his sides.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Richie whispers it bitterly, looking off into the distance. Eddie raises a hand to his cheek, his eyes flicking back over to him and instantly softening.

“Chee, don’t do anything to make it worse.”

“He can’t do that to you.”

He says it quietly, softly, and Eddie can hear how much he cares just from his voice. Every ounce of emotion he’s willing to share is poured into those words, and they sink into Eddie’s skin like sunlight on a summer’s day.

“I can handle myself. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“When do I ever do anything stupid?” he asks, smirking slightly.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, causing them both to laugh lowly. He leans up to kiss him, soft and chaste, before he rests his head back on his chest, tightening his arms around his waist. Richie’s arms come up to encircle him and he places a kiss on the top of his head.

For one short moment, everything is right in the world.

The next day, Henry Bowers walks into maths class with a black eye, and Eddie can’t believe what he’s seeing. He knows in his gut that Richie did it, he knows that he did something stupid and reckless, but he can’t help but feel his heart swell in chest. He represses a smile and thinks  _ he did that for me, to protect me _ and his stomach flutters. He tries to argue with himself, to feel angry and upset, but it’s futile.

When the bell rings, Eddie is still smiling, not a single note written on the page in front of him.

  
  


** _v._ **

The fifth time he notices it, it’s raining.

They’re lying on their coats in the Barrens, Eddie’s head resting on Richie’s chest. The rest of their friends had left hours ago, but Richie wanted to look at the clouds, so of course Eddie had stayed.

He basically just wanted an excuse to chat shit, as Richie almost always did. Eddie had spent the last couple of hours arguing with him over whether or not that cloud did look like a butternut squash (it didn’t) and listening to him give each of the clouds silly voices, laughing harder than he would have if the jokes were being told by anyone else.

After a while, they sink into a comfortable silence, lying there together on the grass. Richie is running one of his hands through Eddie’s hair as they watch the sun slowly start to fade and it causes a deep calm to seep into his bones. The sky glows orange and pink and purple, morphing and warping before their eyes, and it’s almost the most beautiful thing Eddie has ever seen.

To him, nothing will ever be as beautiful as the man lying next to him.

They’re both so focused on their arms around each other, the warmth passing between them, and the sky laid out above them, that they don’t notice the dark clouds creeping in from behind.

That is, until the heavens open and rain starts to pour down on them from above. Not light droplets, not drizzle, but torrential rain that soaks them to the bone in what feels like seconds.

They both immediately jump to their feet, scrambling to gather up their stuff, the rain icy against Eddie’s exposed skin

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” 

Richie is repeating the word over and over again, Eddie’s clothes getting wetter by the second, the sound of the rain crashing around them deafening, and he just can’t help the laugh that creeps out of his mouth. He can see the shock on Richie’s features before he joins in, both of them laughing as they begin to run out of the Barrens, feet splashing against the soaking grass.

They laugh the entire way back to Richie’s house, falling into the entryway with exhausted lungs and aching cheeks. He leans against the wall next to Richie before jumping away, realising how soggy his clothes are, not wanting to leave a stain. Richie follows suit, leaving them both to stand there in the entryway, breathing heavily, clothes and hair dripping slightly onto the carpet. He stares into Richie’s eyes, still glistening with recent laughter and exhilaration and something else Eddie can’t quite place. The way he’s looking at him makes Eddie’s stomach clench and he takes a tiny step closer to him without even meaning to.

“Are your parents home?” he whispers.

Richie shakes his head, moving forwards until Eddie is within touching distance. His eyes flick down to his lips and Eddie feels a heat start to prickle underneath his skin. 

He licks his lips.

“Will they be back soon?”

Richie shakes his head again and Eddie can feel his heart rate getting faster, his hands tingling with the need to reach out and touch him. They’re just stood there, staring at each other, Richie’s hands twitching at his sides. The air is humid with tension, alive and sparkling around them and Eddie can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his breaths still coming fast and shallow.

Before he musters up the courage to move, Richie grabs Eddie by the shoulders and pushes him against the wall, smashing their lips together. Eddie doesn’t have a second to think before Richie’s mouth is on his, his hands moving down and slipping under his t-shirt, thumbs rubbing against his waist. It’s overwhelming and urgent, almost aggressive, and it makes a wave of pleasure ripple through Eddie’s body.

He kisses back, of course he does, but this kiss isn’t about him. This kiss is Richie trying to pour every feeling he has into Eddie’s mouth, to shake him by his core and show him how he feels. Richie can’t say it, but he can kiss it into Eddie’s very soul with each tilt of his head and flick of his tongue. Eddie can feel it in his fingers against his skin, almost imploring him to understand, begging him to know that he cares about him, that he means everything to him, that he loves him.

When he pulls back, breath shallow and lips red, he looks almost embarrassed. 

Eddie just smiles at him, and Richie knows that he understands.

  
  


** _\+ i._ **

The one time Richie actually talks, Eddie is reading.

They’re sat in the back of Richie’s car in some random field, the doors open to let the breeze in, wrestling with the humid summer heat. It had started out as… something else in the backseat of the car, but Eddie had pressed pause, the heat becoming unbearable. Since then they’d been sat there together, Richie listening to music and sketching away in his notebook, Eddie reading. Occasionally he shows him something he’s drawn, and Eddie tells him how good it looks, or he shows Richie a sentence in his book, watching him laugh or frown or raise his eyebrows.

It’s quiet and familiar and intimate in a way their previous activities could never be. Eddie feels truly at peace, almost serene, and that’s why it shocks him so much when he hears Richie softly sobbing next to him.

His eyes shoot over to him, disbelief written on every inch of his face, eyes wide and mouth open. After a second he reaches his arm out and pulls the other boy towards him.

“Hey, Richie,what’s wrong?”

He’s never seen Richie cry before. He’s seen him laugh and frown and smile and mumble in his sleep, but he’s never seen him cry. He’s holding his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking and Eddie squeezes him slightly, feeling the need to do something, anything, to make him feel better. He’s not making much noise but in the silence of the car he can hear everything, every choked sob and intake of breath and small sniffle.

Every sound cuts him like a knife, his chest heavy as if his actual heart is aching, and he wants so badly to make Richie feel better. He wants to be able to take everything that makes his boyfriend anything but joyful and destroy it. He knows he can't do that, though, and it hurts and angers him in a way nothing else ever could.

They sit there for a while, Eddie running his hand up and down Richie’s back and listening to his sobs slowly subside. It seems like another millennium by the time he moves, dropping his hands from his face and Eddie’s heart pangs when he sees his bloodshot eyes and tear streaked cheeks.

“Richie, what’s wrong?” 

When the other boy looks up at him, Eddie sees more in his eyes in one second than he thinks he’s seen the entire time they’ve known each other. 

Richie stares at him for a second with an intensity that makes Eddie's stomach churn. He wants him to speak, to open up, to tell him what he is so clearly feeling right now. He pleads with his eyes and he knows Richie understands, but his heart sinks when the other boy shakes his head.

"I'm just being stupid, don't worry," he mutters, looking back down at his lap.

Eddie sighs.

"Richie, feeling emotions is not stupid. You can talk to me, about anything, and I won't judge you."

He looks back up at him and Eddie smiles softly, trying to express his affection and acceptance in his eyes, imploring him to understand. He stares back at him, searching, and then looks away. Eddie thinks it's over, he thinks he's lost. It's just another example of Richie bottling everything up, and he's so worried about him, brow furrowed and a heavy sigh falling from his mouth.

Just as he's about to say something himself, Richie speaks.

"I never thought anyone would care about me the way you do. I never thought I'd sit here like this with someone, so… easy and together and I don't know. My parents never cared about me, it made me feel like I wasn't worth caring about."

He pauses for a long time, but Eddie stays silent. He can sense Richie is not done speaking, and he wants him to have the time and space to say whatever he needs to.

His heart is pounding inside his chest, and he's sure that the other boy can feel it.

"I love you, Eddie. I love you more than I thought I would ever love anyone," he looks up at him, determination and affection shimmering in his eyes, “and I’m just so happy that we can be like this, that I can be like this with you, that I can be with you at all."

Eddie stares down at him, mouth slightly open and eyes wide, and he doesn't know what to say. His heart is pounding and his stomach is fluttering and he loves Richie more then than he ever has. He knows how hard it is for Richie to open up, he knows how much it means that he's willing to be this vulnerable with him. He wants to say the perfect thing in response, to be as open with Richie as he's been with him, but he can't think. His brain has short circuited and all that he can think is  _ I love him I love him I love him. _

At least a couple of minutes pass with Eddie just staring down at him until Richie starts to smile.

"Don't say it back then, man, it's cool."

There's the Richie Eddies knows and loves.

He adjusts himself so his head is resting on Eddie's shoulder and finally Eddie speaks.

"I do love you, so much, you know that. You just took me by surprise."

Richie moves slightly so he can look back up at him and shrugs. Eddie briefly considers strangling him.

"Thank you for talking to me. I'm so happy that I'm with you Richie, you make me so happy I can't think straight."

Richie's face changes from a soft smile to a grin.

"Clearly."

Eddie smacks him on the back and Richie starts to laugh.

"I mean it though. You mean the world to me," he squeezes him and Richie is staring at him with something indescribable in his eyes, "I'm never going to leave you, Richie Tozier."

He smiles

"Good."

He turns to face the front of the car again, an easy silence falling around them. Eddie's heart is heavy with love and he never, ever wants this feeling to leave.

They stay like that for a long time, just bathing in each others warmth, and if they end up returning to their previous activities then Eddie's okay with that too.

When it comes to Richie, Eddie is okay with anything, and nothing than that fact could ever make him happier.


End file.
